


nothing really changes, everything changes

by writtenndust



Series: Amelia Song [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenndust/pseuds/writtenndust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amelia didn’t really understand how other people’s grandparents were so old. It didn’t make sense to her. - The Amelia Song Series</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing really changes, everything changes

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a birthday gift for Charina that I wrote ages ago. I just found it again on my computer and thought - why not?

Amelia ran her small fingers through the damp sand. The morning had been icy and the moisture had seeped right down into the sandpit, filling the small play area with an odd mixture of pine needles and the smell of the ocean; hidden in amongst the thick trees of her grandparent’s back garden.

She sat perched on the cracking wooden edge, brushing small piles of wet sand up against the frame as she listened to small creatures, rustling about in the trees.

You couldn’t hear the sound of the world down beyond her grandmother’s vegetable garden. Down there, the garden was overgrown and the back fence was crawling with ivy. After that there was a great stretch of unexplored forest where she was certain she could find fairies and goblins and hidden treasures, if only she could escape her mother’s watchful eye long enough to squeeze through the small gap in the fence.

From where she sat, she could see her mother, and her grandmother, pottering around the kitchen. They liked to dance as they cooked and most of the time, she liked to dance with them. She’d toss the freshly peeled potatoes across the kitchen and her grandmother would spin and skip to the tune of the Dancing Queen, her auburn hair whipping her in the face as she laughed.

Her mother, standing at he stovetop with a wooden spoon perpetually in her grasp, would bop to the beat of the music, singing along with a melodic contralto as her rich golden curls bounced across her shoulders.

The sight of her mother’s smile made Amelia’s heart swell.

It wasn’t often that she got to see her mother truly smile. Only when she’d crawl into her parents bed in the early hours of the morning, when light was barely peeking through the clouds and the air was still so crisp her ears would hurt until she snuggled her face right down under her mother’s arm and they giggled together, huddled under the blanket.

She’d smile when they saw her grandparents and for the longest time, Amelia didn’t really understand how other people’s grandparents were so old. It didn’t make sense to her. In her world, grandmother’s were feisty and Scottish and learned how to dance from their daughters. In her world, grandfather’s were kind and gentle and fought like Ancient Romans.

“It’s easier to meld, when there’s just the right amount of moisture.”

Amelia’s hand stilled in the sand and her head whipped around, her thick waves of blonde hair hit her in the face as she looked up at him. His voice wasn’t familiar but the tone of it was the same she’d heard a million times. The way the words danced off his tongue, the way they played and bounced on the air like chimes that stretched her mouth in the broadest of grins.

She looked over his shoulder to her mother who had stepped out the back door in one of her grandmother’s frilly, floral aprons; the smile on her face confirmed for Amelia what she already knew.

There was only one other person in the universe that could make her mother smile like that.

“Father!” She leapt up, wrapping her arms around his neck as he buried his face in her hair. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, my Amelia.” He kissed her brow and she giggled as he turned, heading back towards the house and her mother.

“Your face is different.” Amelia frowned, brushing her little fingertips across the lines on his cheek. His skin appeared older, more tired and everything about him seemed more grey. But his smile was the same, bright and joyous and filled with secrets from all of time and space.

“Do you like it?” He asked gently and she could see the worry there, in the depth of his eyes. She studied those eyes for a long time, looking as deep down into them as she could go, pulling away the layers and layers of all his faces until she saw the one she wanted to see. Her father was in there, deep inside the man who held her in his arms, and his face was the face she’d always seen, no matter what.

“I do,” she smirked, sharing a glance with her mother. She looked down to his collar, frowning suddenly as she noticed a change she wasn’t ready to grasp.

Long ago, when they’d saved her from the Silence, they’d explained to her just how special she was. Amelia had never really thought anything of it, until the first time she’d seen her father with a different face; but now she understand and she’d come to see that it wasn’t anything to fear. She, her mother and her father, were special. 

But running her fingers along the collar of his button-down shirt, she realised there was one thing she just could not abide.

“Where is your bow-tie?” She gripped his collar, her brows knitted into a neat frown as she heard her parents chuckle.

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Her mother’s voice broke the tension as she passed a small mason jar into Amelia’s line of sight. “I’ve got just the thing.” Amelia grinned when she saw what the label said, meeting her father’s eye for confirmation before she took it and grinned at her mother’s laughing eyes. “I’ve been saving it for just this kind of occasion.”

Amelia held it between her and her father, safe in the knowledge that she was held firm against his hip; his arms secure around her waist.

“‘Emergency Bow-tie: Break Glass and apply as necessary.’” Amelia read, grinning.

“You do the honours, River.” He spoked gently and Amelia felt the vibrations of his chest as he spoke, wishing she could curl up to that feeling for the rest of her life.

“I’d love to, Sweetie.” 

Her mother took the jar back, holding it in the palm of her small, agile hand, before she thrust it down against the hard concrete slab on the back patio. The bright purple bow-tie sprang free and her mother bent to pick it up.

“It’s not your look anymore, is it?” Her mother asked as she attached the small bow-tie to the collar of his shirt, buttoning him up and patting his chest as if to feel her was really there.

She wouldn’t say anything about it, but Amelia knew that her mother did that every time he came back. Every time they saw him, the faces she knew and the faces she didn’t. She would always see that look in her mother’s eye and she’d notice that one moment, that one touch, where her mother - the enigmatic, fearless River Song - had to check that the man before them was real.

“Come on,” He barked with excitement, bouncing Amelia on his hip. “One last run for the majestic bow tie, what do you say?” He danced her in a circle and Amelia gripped his shoulders, shrieking with laughter as they spun around.

“Where will we go, father?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” He waggled his eyebrows at her mother. “Lets hop in the TARDIS and press buttons; see where the old girl wants to take us.”

“Let me just turn off the potatoes.” Amelia’s mother dashed back inside and her father set her down on the ground. She didn’t waste any time dashing around the side of the house to see the TARDIS, standing there in all of her glory with her lights brighter than ever and her hum, gentler when Amelia was on board.

“The Ponds, they’re not here?” Amelia looked over her shoulder at her parents, just as her father’s lips touched the edge of her mother’s brow.

“No,” She breathed. “They’re out. But I don’t know if mum could see you like this. It’d break her heart, not to be able to see you like we do.”

“We’ll find her something nice at the moonlight markets on Maretaxtri and you can tell her nothing’s changed.”

“Come on!” Amelia squealed, grabbing her parents hands and pulling them through the doors. “We have to see the universe before grandma gets back from the shops!”

The doors closed behind them and the TARDIS wheezed and thumped, disappearing from sight. All that remained was the icy breeze from the wake of the TARDIS, a small pot of half-cooked potatoes and a little handprint pressed into damp sand, that said they were ever there at all.

The End


End file.
